Sammie Rae: Missing!
by SciFiNutTX
Summary: Dean's adoptive daughter Sammie Rae has been kidnapped. She won't talk to anyone else, even to save herself, and Sam's visions are out of control. CH11 up Complete!
1. Chapter 1

Okay - here it is! A sequel to Sammie Rae. Thanks to everyone who has been requesting this, and to _**hotshow **_for some plotting advice.

**Ch1 – An average Day**

"Sammy!" Dean bellowed, standing by the monkey bars at a neighborhood park. Sam's head poked over the top of a covered slide. Rae's little face hung over the edge of a lookout tower on top of the huge playground structure. She was grinning ear to ear.

Dean waved his arm. "Get over here!"

Rae raced over to Dean, leaping onto him and hanging from his waist. Sam disentangled himself from playground equipment meant for people a third of his height before ambling over. "What's up, Dean?"

"Got a lead. Let's go check it out." Dean headed toward the car, half-dragging Rae with him.

"What's the lead?" Sam asked, slowing his normal pace to stay in step with his brother.

"But I'm not ready to leave yet!" Rae shouted into Dean's side.

"Too bad, kiddo," Dean ruffled her hair affectionately. "Uncle Sam and I need to check this out before anyone else gets hurt."

She stopped dragging her feet to walk between them. Rae let out a loud sigh. "What's the lead?" she asked, defeated.

Dean shot Sam a grin over her head. "There was a similar attack a few years ago, but the victim survived. It was a woman who still lives in town. Thought we might pay her a little visit."

"You are NOT going to make me talk to her," Rae announced as they neared the Impala.

Dean squatted to talk to her eye to eye. "When have I ever made you talk to someone?" he demanded.

Rae thought hard. "Well, never. I'm just saying."

Dean squeezed his eye shut and shook his head. "Do me favor? Worry about stuff that may actually happen, not stuff you invent."

She jumped into the front seat. "We'll see."

He looked over at his brother. Sam shrugged before climbing into the passenger seat. "So, any idea what attacked her?"

"Nope," Dean started the car, "that's why we're going to talk to her."

Miss Lisa Jerome lived in a tiny house in a cul-de-sac of average, American homes. Her lawn was cut, but browning in the middle. Her hedges could have used a trim. In fact, the entire house looked as if it could use a make-over. Armed with their press identities, Sam and Dean approached the front door after donning ties and sports jackets. Rae trailed close behind Dean.

Sam rapped on the door. "Good afternoon. Is this the residence of Miss Lisa Jerome?" he asked, his boy next door smile plastered across his face.

The woman inside did not step into full view. One eye peered through her cracked front door.

"Um…We are researching some attacks that happened just outside of town. We understand something similar happened to you a few years ago?" Sam shifted from foot to foot. That single eye was difficult to read. "Could we, uh, just talk to you for a few minutes? Ask you about what happened?"

"What's wrong with the kid?" A hoarse voice asked.

Rae was clinging to Dean's leg, hiding her face behind his back.

"Oh, uh," Sam whirled between Rae and Miss Jerome, "she just, uh, doesn't talk. You know, to anyone but, um, us." Sam gestured to Dean and himself.

"Why?" She croaked.

Sam looked back at Dean, who shrugged, nodding.

Sam took a deep breath. "Because she saw her parents murdered," he said, his eyes downcast.

The door swung open and a hand motioned for them to come inside. Sam stepped in, followed closely by Dean and Rae. Then they saw why she was so secretive. Most of her face was covered with ugly, thick scars.

"Oh my God," Dean stepped forward, his face radiating concern. "What the hell did that do you?" He sounded angry and Rae clutched his coat tighter.

She gasped, backing away, covering her face.

"No, wait," Sam pushed Dean back, "we just want to help. Really."

Rae was pulling on Dean's coat, tears streaming over her cheeks. Dean finally looked down. He pulled her up into his arms, wiping away the tears. "What's wrong with you?"

She whispered into Dean's ear. Dean's eyes widened as he listened.

Lisa Jerome was backed against the wall, hands covering her face. "What did she say?" she demanded through her fingers.

Dean held Rae close as he met the woman's eyes. "She said that the – thing" he spat the word, "that killed her parents clawed up her mothers face before it…"

Her eyes widened behind her splayed hands. "Before it what?"

Sam swallowed. "Before it ate them." His conscience burned as he heard a small yelp from Rae.

"Dude!" Dean snapped.

Guilt was written all over Sam's face as he reached out to touch Rae. "Hey, I'm sorry, Sunshine."

The sound of a throat clearing caused the brothers to turn around. "Would…Would you like come coffee?"

---------------------------------------

Dean belted Rae in next to him in the Impala. "Well, if that isn't another friggin' werewolf, I don't know what it is. What do you think?" His eyes met Rae's.

She nodded. "Werewolf. Gotta be."

"Why?" Sam asked, slamming his door.

Rae took a deep breath. "First of all, it happened on a full moon. Next, it sounds like a werewolf."

They waited, but she did not say anything else.

"And?" Sam prompted. "I think you missed something. Think about it."

Rae sighed, resting her chin on a fist to think. Dean chuckled as he backed out of Lisa Jerome's driveway. "Come on Uncle Sam, doesn't she get a day off?"

"Not unless we do," Sam replied.

Dean cut his eyes at Rae. "Think about claw marks," he whispered.

"Oh! A Wendingo has five claws and werewolves have four!" Her face scrunched as she turned to Sam. "So? How does that help?"

Sam tapped her on the nose. "If you were paying attention instead of hiding, you might have noticed the four claw marks across her throat. Four, not five."

"Oh."

"Ah, cut her a little slack there, Sam. That wasn't exactly one of our easier interviews." Dean's voice conveyed a lot more than his words did.

"Yeah," Sam stared down at his hands, "sorry about that."

Rae leaned against her Uncle Sam. She wrapped her arms around his left arm and squeezed tight. "Thanks, Sunshine," he whispered into her hair.

TBC...


	2. Ch2 Missing

I hope this chapter is better than the last.

**Ch2 – Missing**

Rae never felt safer than she did with Dean and Sam. Her parents had argued all the time, hiring nanny after nanny and finally doctors to deal with her after the nightmares started. That was the reason for all the vacations, to "reconnect as a family." Sometimes it even seemed like it was working and the three of them would be happy, but then came the monster. And Dean.

She snuggled closer to her new Dad, confident that no monster would ever get him. Monsters should be afraid of Dad, not the other way around. She smiled to herself as his arm tightened around her. He was sound asleep, but he still held her tight. She wondered if he was afraid she would just disappear, the way he acted sometimes. Rae was never allowed to go anywhere by herself. If she had to use a public bathroom, he either sent in a waitress to check it out first or he banged on the door then opened it himself, standing with the door open until she was finished.

Something tugged on her leg. She lifted her head to look over Dad at Uncle Sam. Sam was still sleeping, too. Well, they did have a rough night. Uncle Sam had lots of nightmares, too. With a hard swallow, Rae chanced a look down at her leg. Her teddy bear, Ted, was sitting on her leg. She almost laughed at herself. Ted scared her?

Ted bounced on her leg. Rae nodded at him, wriggling gently out from under Dad's arm. Usually that would wake him up, but Uncle Sam had more than one bad dream last night, so she guessed they were both pretty tired. And it looked like Ted was ready to play. Her bare feet touched the scratchy carpet. She looked around for Ted. Where did he go?

Ted was standing in the middle of their motel room. He ambled toward the door. Rae hurried to catch up with him. "No, Ted. We aren't allowed to go outside alone," she whispered. Ted did not slow down. It was like he was ignoring her. Rae did not like to be ignored. She hurried after her bear. Ted leaped up and grabbed the door handle. What was he doing? As she reached out to grab him, the door swung open and Ted slipped out.

Rae bit her lip in indecision. She was not allowed to go outside by herself, but neither was Ted. If she just stepped out for one second, just one second, just enough time to grab Ted, Dad shouldn't be too mad. She glanced over at the bed. Dad and Uncle Sam were still sleeping. With a deep breath, Rae stepped out.

TBC…


	3. Ch3 The Search Begins

Thanks for all the support! I appreciate it!

**Ch3 – The Search Begins**

Dean stretched out on the bed. It felt like one of those lazy days. If the creature was a werewolf they had nearly a week before it struck again. He rolled over, looking for a more comfortable position. Wait a minute. "Rae?"

No answer. Dean cracked an eye open. Nothing was moving. "Rae!"

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Sammie Rae! Front and center!" Normally that was more than enough to bring her shooting out from wherever she was hiding. Concerned, Dean stood to survey their motel room. It wasn't large enough to hide much of anything. He threw a pillow at Sam's head before heading over to the bathroom.

"What? What? I'm up!"

Dean pounded on the bathroom door. "Sammie Rae? You in there?" He opened the door cautiously. The bathroom was empty too. Dean raced to his duffel and pulled on a pair of jeans over his boxers. He threw his boots on, sockless, before racing out the door. "Rae! Rae!"

Dean raced around the parking lot, calling her name. He tried searching the hallways outside the motel. It was very early and no one was out, certainly not a six year old. By the time he ran back to their room, Dean was in full-blown panic mode. Sam was talking to the people in the next room. When they were sure Rae was not inside, they moved to the next door. No one answered. Dean lifted his foot to kick the door in.

"Dean!" Sam stood between Dean and the door. "You can't just search every room!"

"Watch me," he growled. "Either help or get the hell out of my way." He lifted his foot again when another idea occurred to him. Dean took out his cell phone. "Hello? Police? Yes, I have an emergency. My six year old is missing." He relayed all the pertinent information before thumbing off his cell. Then he kicked open the next door. The room was empty. As was the next room.

-------------------------

Dean rented a computer terminal at the closest copy store to download pictures off his and Sam's cameras. As he printed paper copies, Sam cleared his throat.

"What?"

"Dean, I don't think it's a good idea to involve the police." Sam hovered over the monitor, Dean knew it was so Sam could gauge his reaction. Dean scowled at him.

"Why the hell not?"

Sam leaned closer. "Because you're wanted?"

Dean waved a hand, brushing away those pesky murder warrants. "This isn't about me, Sam. It's about her."

"You won't be any good to her if you're in jail!" Sam hissed.

Dean snagged the pictures off the printer. "I think these should work nicely for our crack police experts." He headed out of the store before Sam could say anything else. His heart had not stopped pounding since he realized Rae was gone. How could Sam possibly worry about him being wanted at a time like this? As long as his face didn't wind up on the news but Rae's did, everything should be fine.

He felt rather than saw Sam fall in step beside him. Dean kept his eyes forward, not inviting any conversation.

"I'm sure she's fine," Sam said. Dean chanced a glance up. Sam was looking down the street, not willing to look him in the eye either. "She probably just got lost or something."

Dean felt the growl in his throat. "No, Sam. Rae wouldn't do that. Someone, or something, took her."

Sam stopped cold. He was still staring down the street. "There is no evidence of that." His voice was soft.

Dean took a deep breath. The thoughts that had been racing around and careening off one another in his head all morning had finally settled down and it all added up to one thing. "Sammy. Rae doesn't go anywhere by herself. She starts screaming if one of us isn't in sight. Remember last week when you were looking for a toy under the bed and she thought you left?"

"She screamed for ten minutes," Sam replied, staring at the horizon.

"She was taken," Dean repeated. He had to keep saying it; it was the only way to make himself believe it. And when he found who did it he was going to make him, or it, regret ever laying eyes on that little girl. "And we're going to find them."

A heavy hand was on his shoulder. Dean looked up into those damned puppy dog eyes. "We will find her Dean. She's going to be fine."

"She better be." Dean looked away, not trusting his brother's shiny eyes. If that boy started crying, he was going to knock Sam out and leave him on the sidewalk. He wrenched open his car door to sit behind the wheel and slammed it shut a little harder than necessary. He sat breathing for a moment, trying to regain control while Sam got in the car.

"Dean, I -"

"Shut up." Dean started the car. He could not handle any more emotional Sammy right now. Not now. "I gotta get these pictures to the cops."

"Yeah, okay."

Sam's voice sounded strained. Dean started the car, but something kept him from pulling out. He knew he would regret it, but he chanced a look at Sam.

Sam's face was a mask of pain. One hand was pressed against his forehead and beads of sweat trickled down his face. His teeth were gritted together as another wave of pain hit.

"Sam!" Dean jumped out and ran around to the other side of the car. "Sam! What is it?" He threw the door open to grab his brother by the shoulders. "Sam!"

Usually physical contact made it possible for Sam to at least speak; sometimes it even broke the vision. But this time Sam's eyes rolled up, showing only the whites. His body shook and shuddered violently.

"Shit!" Dean stabbed the buttons on his cell. "I need an ambulance, outside the Quick Copy. Now! It's my brother, he's having convulsions."

Dean tossed his cell on the seat, desperately trying to keep Sam pinned in the car. His little brother was still convulsing when the ambulance arrived. It felt like hours but the ambulance had arrived within minutes. The paramedics shoved him aside to care for Sam. Dean stood by, feeling completely helpless and useless. Sam was strapped down to a gurney and wheeled into the back of the ambulance. They started an IV and were pumping some kind of drugs into him.

When they asked Dean to ride in the ambulance with Sam, Sam's eyes opened briefly. "No, Dean. Find Rae. She's with bad people." Sam's eyes rolled back again and his body shook viciously.

Dean stood there, torn. Should he go with his brother, make sure Sam was going to be okay, or look for Rae? With the way his heart was pounding against his ribs, it could not take much more. He felt like it might shatter, and take him with it. At least then he would not have to make an impossible decision.

TBC…

(Wonder what Dean's going to do?)


	4. Ch4 So Much Trouble

All right - hopefully this chapter will answer two questions: 1) What's with the freaky bear? and 2) What will Dean do? I hope you like the answers!

Ch4 – So Much Trouble

"What is wrong with that kid?" Scary Man asked Scary Lady.

"How the hell should I know!" Scary Lady said. Scary Lady sounded a little like Dad when she talked like that, but Rae was pretty sure Scary Lady was not nice like Dad.

They were in a van and Scary Man was driving them somewhere. Rae clutched Ted to her chest. Ted was certainly not her favorite person right now after taking off like that, but Dad told her to take care of him no matter what. Ted was her responsibility. He was going to be seriously grounded after Dad and Uncle Sam found them. Seriously.

She had tried to look out the window a couple of times, but that meant she had to stand up. Every time she tried, Scary Man yelled at her and Scary Lady threatened to hurt her. So she sat on the floor, keeping Ted safe. Stupid bear. She wondered what was keeping Dad. The Scary people grabbed her right outside their room early this morning. Weren't Dad and Uncle Sam awake by now?

The van stopped. Rae huddled in the back corner. She liked Dad's car better; it had a place for her to sit and be safe. But she was safe whenever she was with Dad. Rae promised herself she would never, ever, ever leave without Dad or Uncle Sam again. The side of the van opened.

Scary Lady was staring at her. "Come on, kid. And be quiet."

No problem. There was no way she was talking to these two. And Dad would never make her anyway, so she didn't have to. Nyah. But that did not mean she had to do what Scary Lady said. Rae hunkered down in her corner, refusing to come out.

Scary Lady waved at Scary Man. "You do it or I'm gonna hurt her." Scary Lady sounded like she might like that. Rae shivered.

Scary Man smiled at her. Rae felt a cold chill. "What's your bear's name?"

Rae clutched Ted tighter.

"I think your bear wants to come with us," he said as he smiled. Rae tried to hold on, but it was like something was pulling Ted out of her arms. Ted flew over to Scary Man. Scary Man held up her bear and waved him at her. "If you want it, you have to come with us."

Damn it. Ted was a real pain in the ass. Rae sighed as she crawled out of the van. She held her hands out for the bear, but Scary Man backed away, waving Ted at her. Rae had no choice but to follow. They led her into a small house. Well, it was bigger than the motel room, but lots smaller than the houses she was used to seeing. As she went inside, Rae wondered how Dad was going to find her here. Her new Dad was pretty awesome, though. He saved her from that monster, a Wendingo, in its cave. She trusted him. He would come. Maybe it would take a few days, like last time, but Dad would come get her.

Ted flew out of Scary Man's hands into a little bedroom. Rae followed. After she stepped inside, the bedroom door shut by itself and Ted fell to the floor. She tried the doorknob first; it would not move. Rae growled to herself as she retrieved Ted from the floor. "You are in so much trouble," she whispered to the bear.

---------------------

Dean jumped into the back of the ambulance. As the doors shut, he pulled out his cell phone and a business card. He punched the buttons in his phone savagely then waited impatiently until a male voice answered.

"Is this Sergeant McCready? This is Dean Mahogoff. I was hoping you had some new information about my kid, Sammie Rae Mahogoff?" Dean sat watching Sam's convulsions grow weaker as the medications in the IV bag started to work. Sam was still unconscious. "I see. Well, I'll be at the hospital if you need to contact me. No, it's my brother. Yeah, probably stress related. As soon as you learn anything. Right. Thanks." Dean slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He noticed the exchanged glances between the paramedics, but ignored it. Dean would wait until he could talk to a doctor about Sam before…

Before what? Before he lost it completely? Dean ran a hand over his head, watching his brother continue to twitch. It had not been much of a choice, deciding where he should be. He had no idea where Rae was or even a decent lead on how to find her, but Sam was right here. And Sam warned him about Rae? What was up with that? Well, Sam's visions had often given them clues about where to go before, so all he needed to do was wait for Sam to wake up. Assuming Sam would wake up.

Dean leaned back, resting his head against the side of the ambulance so he could feel the vibrations of the vehicle racing down the road. He shut his eyes and tried to clear his mind of everything, to let oblivion take hold if only for a moment, just to give himself time to adjust. Things often happened quickly on a hunt and he was prepared for that, but this? This was his family, and it was being destroyed before his very eyes!

The ambulance was small. Too small. There was not enough air. Dean took several large gulps of air, which earned him interested looks from the paramedics. Easy there, Dean, watch it, he told himself. He forced his breathing into a normal pattern while he leaned forward to look at Sam.

Sam was out cold. His skin was pale, cold and clammy. Wisps of brown locks stuck to his forehead, and it looked so unnatural plastered there. "How's he doing?" Dean asked.

"Vitals are stable," the paramedic answered. He did not say more. Dean knew what that meant – they did not have any answers.

Dean let out a long sigh as he looked out the front. Finally – the hospital!

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Rae's stomach was growling, but she was not going to ask those people to feed her. She would not! Dad said she was in that cave for days, so suffering a little while without food was not going to hurt her. She did it before. Okay, so she did not remember much about that, but Uncle Sam told her that was normal. When people had really bad things happen to them it was normal to make yourself forget. Rae remembered that Dad had a funny look on his face when Uncle Sam told her that. She wondered why, and promised herself that after Dad found her she would ask him.

Ted sat on the floor next to her. Rae frowned at him. He was such a bad bear! First, he made her leave the room, where she was safe, and let these scary people take them. Then he trapped her in this stupid room. There wasn't even a window in here!

There were voices, loud voices. Rae stood up and walked over to the door. She still couldn't quite make out what was being said, until she put her ear to the door.

"Who cares?" It was Scary Lady.

"If we're going to use her as bait, she needs to be alive! I'm taking her some pizza." Scary Man was arguing with her. Rae wondered what he meant by "bait".

"You do know what we may have to do?" Scary Lady sounded scarier than usual.

"I know. I know. I'm not getting attached, Lucille. Just let me do this." Lucille? Scary Lady's name was Lucille? Rae stifled a giggle.

"Fine! Have it your way, then. It always has to be Ronnie's way, doesn't it? And it's Luce, not Lucille!"

She heard a deep sigh and footsteps coming down the hall. Rae stood by the door, waiting. Scary Man, or Ronnie, opened the door and looked surprised to see her standing there.

"Hey, kid. Brought you some lunch." He smiled that cold smile as he held out a plate with pizza on it and a can of soda.

Rae looked pointedly out into the hall. She pointed.

"No, you can't leave. We need you here." His voice was sharp and more than a little scary.

Rae shook her head and pointed at another door in the hall, jumping up and down holding her pants.

"Oh." Ronnie looked at the open door to the bathroom. "I never thought about that. Um, yeah, okay." He stood aside as Rae bolted through the hall to the bathroom. Whew!

When she came out, Ronnie was standing just outside the door. "Back to your room," he pointed, as though she was too stupid to figure it out on her own. Rae stomped back inside the room. The pizza and soda were on the bedside table. Ronnie closed the door after her and she heard a click as it locked, but when she was sure he was gone she checked it anyway.

Rae gathered Ted in one arm as she sat on the bed to eat her pizza, which could have been warmer. Dad always let her get the first piece out of the box while Uncle Sam teased her about being spoiled. She felt the tears rolling down her cheeks before she realized that she was crying. She pulled Ted closer and rested the pizza in her lap as she cried. Oh, they were in so much trouble!

TBC…


	5. Ch5 Sam

Thanks again for all the supportive reviews! I hope this chapter also meets with approval. It went in a direction I was not expecting, but it is more interesting than what I'd planned.

**Ch5 – Sam**

Dean sat watching Sam, clutching his cell phone in his hand. Sam was still unconscious. Doctors had been in and out of the ICU for the past three hours and Dean was tired of talking to them. He had settled on a story that was close to the truth, which was Sam suffered from severe migraines. The migraines were often incapacitating and this episode started out the same way. That resulted in another battery of tests. Dean wondered if doctors knew how to do anything other than order more tests.

He rested his head in his hands as he waited. Waiting and patience were not exactly his best features, Sam would probably argue that they were features he did not have. He heard someone clearing a throat not far away. Dean looked up and saw Sergeant McCready.

"Mister Mahogoff?" McCready walked into the small glass room.

"Sergeant," Dean stood to shake his hand. "Any news?" He noticed the police officer wince as he squeezed too tight. Dean dropped his hand quickly.

"Actually, yes." Dean shut his eyes, preparing himself for a flood of disappointment. "A white panel van was spotted outside your hotel early this morning. We have an eyewitness who thinks she saw a man and a woman putting an angry child inside."

"Thinks?" Dean opened his eyes, attempting to keep a lid on the fury building within. "Did this witness _think_ the child was alright?"

"She was not able to make a positive identification of the child, but yes, she did say the child looked unharmed." Dean released the breath he had been holding. "And we have an APB out on the van. Unfortunately, the witness could not recall the license plates either except that they were probably in-state."

Dean nodded, turning to look at Sam. If only Sam would wake up and give him that all important clue.

"How's your brother doing?" McCready moved to stand next to him.

Dean shook his head. "Wish I knew."

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Rae stared at her half-eaten pizza. The soda was good, but it reminded her of Dad. Uncle Sam always said Dad was spoiling her when she got a soda, but Dad always grinned about it. Dad said it was his job to spoil her and Uncle Sam's job to complain about it. Then Uncle Sam would give Dad a nasty look until Dad looked away, which was when Uncle Sam would wink at her.

Dad would come, she told herself. He had to. She did not want to lose another family. Another Dad. Rae held Ted tighter. She was determined to do what Dad told her and take care of Ted. That meant she could not be too scared or cry too much, and she had to keep looking for a way out. All she needed was for the scary people to forget, just one time, to lock her door.

Come to think of it, she had not checked the lock lately. Rae got off the bed and tiptoed over to the door. The door was still locked, but she heard Scary Lady and Scary Man arguing again. She pressed her ear to the door.

"And how do you expect to get him here now? He's in the hospital!" Scary Man was yelling.

"No problem. We get the brother instead." Scary Lady said.

She heard something smash and Scary Lady yelling. "Stop that! What are you doing?"

"We are supposed to get Sam, not the brother!" Scary Man yelled back. His yells were followed by more stuff smashing.

Why would they want Uncle Sam? Rae pressed her ear harder against the door.

"The brother called the cops. Her picture is all over the news," Scary Lady was saying. "We get him, and Sam comes to us."

"Sam is unconscious! He isn't going anywhere!" Scary Man shouted.

Uncle Sam was in the hospital? Unconscious. Rae held Ted close. That meant he was sleeping. That also meant her Dad was at the hospital with Uncle Sam. So if she could just get out of here, she would know where to go.

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Fire. His brain was on fire. There was no other explanation for it, no other description. The flames licked the inside of his skull, balling up behind his eyes, threatening to explode outward, taking his face with it. He wanted to moan or groan, something to get attention, to let someone know he was trapped in here. Why was it always fire?

His mouth did not work, but his ears did. If he concentrated, really hard, he could hear something past the roar of the fire. A familiar voice was nearby. He strained to listen.

"They're running more tests." Tests? If the familiar voice was talking about him, that was good news. It meant he was in a hospital. The doctors should be able to find the fire and put it out. He started to relax, but the flames burning his brain intensified. With a concerted effort, he was able to push them back. He could not relax.

"So, no idea?" That voice was unfamiliar, but it was talking to the familiar voice. It was bad news. The doctors had not found the fire yet. What was wrong with them? Couldn't they see it? Wasn't his head at least hot? Surely their instruments could detect something like this?

"You hang in there, sir. I'll contact you the instant we have news on your daughter, and I'll keep checking in with you. Okay?"

"Thanks, Sergeant."

Daughter. Who the hell had a daughter? Who did he know, and that voice was all too familiar, with a daughter? The flames leapt up, flickering in the darkness of his mind, standing between him and memory. He hesitated before those flames. They frightened him, fire always had. It was a fear he never admitted, least of all to himself. But if a child was in trouble, he knew his brother would not hesitate. Yet here he was, hesitating.

He plunged through the wall of flames, allowing his hatred of fire to overcome his fear. Once through, it was calm and cool. He breathed with relief. Where had the fire gone? Was it coming back? Wait, that voice, he knew who it was now. Dean.

Tiny slits allowed him to see that he was in a hospital. It was not a regular hospital room. The walls were just glass – no privacy. People walked by constantly. This was ICU. What happened to land him in ICU? Dean was watching a man walk away. Must be the sergeant he was just speaking with.

Dean shuffled over to stand next to his bed, sighing as he half-sat, half-collapsed into a chair. His brother looked old, older than he should. Dean was only four years older, but right now he looked like he had aged at least ten or fifteen years. His mouth was not cooperating, but the fire felt like it had died down. So he watched, because it was the only thing he could do. He wished he could have opened his eyes more, it would have made it easier. Through narrow slits, and his eyelashes that now seemed far too thick, he watched his older brother. Dean was staring at something just beyond the bed. He recognized that look. The last time he saw such a distant, forlorn expression on his big brother's face was the day he packed and left for college. Dean had not said a word, just watched him pack. Dean's worst fear was losing his family, and that was what he looked like when it happened.

He struggled to open his eyes, to show his brother that he was not gone, not yet. His eyelids were too heavy, required too much strength to lift. He tried to breathe heavier. Something, anything, to alert his brother that he was here, alive.

An image flashed through his mind. He recognized it as from a vision. It had that same quality to it his visions did, like a wild camera man swinging and focusing the camera in and out, trying to get a better shot. A little girl was being held captive by a man and a woman. Dean kicked in the door. Knives, set on a table by the door, rose into the air to assault Dean. Dean's reflexes were good, but not good enough. He dodged most of the flying knives but one embedded in his shoulder. The girl screamed. The woman put down a hand, holding the girl's head. The girl screamed again as her body shook savagely, with electricity pouring from the woman's hand into the child's body. Dean screamed as he raised his gun and fired, again and again.

"No!" Sam bolted into a sitting position, the word torn from his throat.

"Sammy!" Dean's hands were on him, trying to hold him up. He could feel weak muscles shaking with the effort of sitting. "Sam?"

"Doctor! Need a doctor in here!" Dean's voice shouted. His brother's hands were forcing him back onto the bed.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, grateful he could hear the sound of his own voice.

"I'm here, Sammy. I'm here."

"They'll kill her," Sam reached out, grabbing his brother's arm. "They want to kill both of you." He locked eyes with Dean. He saw fear and anger in hazel-green form. "Please, don't go."

Doctors burst into the room, shoving Dean away. Sam still reached for him. The only way to keep his brother safe, to prevent two deaths, was to keep him right here. Couldn't they see that?

One thing bothered him more than anything. Sam realized that the familiar voice from earlier must have been Dean's. That meant the police thought Dean had a missing daughter. What was Dean up to? Why was he claiming to have a daughter? And who was that little girl?

TBC...


	6. Ch6 Complications

**Ch6 – Complications**

_They'll kill her. They want to kill both of you. Please don't go._

The words echoed in his mind, growing louder with each ricochet. Dean felt his hands clench into fists. They wanted to kill Rae. And Sam did not want him to go. He needed something to throw, someone to hit, something to break under his rage.

"Mister Mahogoff?" A hand was pulling on his arm, leading him out of the room. "Sir, we need you to wait out here. Are you alright?"

Dean barely registered the nurse who led him away from his brother. He gave her a slight nod; it was all he could muster under the circumstances. She returned to the room. Sam was becoming more restless, struggling under the hands of doctors and nurses. Dean watched, stone-faced, wondering if he should intervene or if his brother deserved this. _Please don't go._ How could he possibly ask that? He thought Sam had accepted Rae as a part of their lives now, so what the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Dean!" Sam knocked a nurse aside and punched out an orderly. Dean stood on tiptoe to see the man on the floor. Yep, KO-ed. Nice one, Sammy. "Dean!"

His internal struggles lasted only a short moment before he pushed his way through the throng of people surrounding his brother, at once trying to hold the large man down and duck his flailing appendages.

"Sam!" he barked, catching an arm. He put as much pressure as he dared on his brother's wrist, to force Sam's attention. "Sam!"

Sam turned unfocused eyes on Dean. "Dean?" The panic in his brother's voice was enough to send him into big-brother overdrive.

"Yeah, I'm here. Do you know where you are?" Dean forced the arm he was holding down.

"Hospital?" Sam blinked hard. "Dean, my head hurts," he whined.

Dean looked at Sam's doctor, the question written all over his face. "Yeah, I know Sam. That's why we're here." The doctor motioned for Dean to step outside the room with him. "Think I can leave you alone for a second without you knocking somebody out?"

"Oh, God…" Sam leaned over to view the prone orderly. Apparently so.

"Back in a sec, Sam." Dean strode out quickly after the doctor. "What?" he hissed at the man.

"You said he suffers from migraines regularly?" The doctor asked. Dean nodded. "How do you know? Does he usually complain about them?"

Dean shook his head. "No, he usually tries to hide them. I have to catch him splashing cold water on his face or doubled over with pain before he'll admit to it." Dean threw a snarl over his shoulder at his hospitalized brother.

"That's bad." The doctor sighed.

"Excuse me?" The man's response was startling, and enough to scare whatever Dean still had leftover to be scared.

"It must mean the pain is excruciating. We'll have to run more tests. I'd like to do a CT scan for brain damage."

Dean started. "What? Why?"

The doctor frowned. "With the pain and violence, I can only assume he is suffering from some type of brain damage."

Dean chewed his lower lip. "Fine. But let me talk to him first."

"We will have to sedate him."

Dean shot the doctor a grin as he turned away. "Only if he lets you."

He made sure to put his game face on before standing beside his brother. "Hey Sammy, how're you feeling?'

"Hurts, Dean. It hurts." Sam moaned, pressing a palm to his forehead.

"Yeah, I know it does." Dean shot the other people in the room a stern look. Sam's doctor ushered them out. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Had a vision, didn't you? About Rae?"

Sam shook his head. "No. It was about a little girl. She's going to be kidnapped."

Dean frowned. "That little girl is Rae, Sam."

Sam looked up at him. "How do you know her name, Dean?"

Icy fingers of fear clutched his gut. "What did you see, Sam?"

Sam stared at him a long moment before answering. "You found where they were holding her and bust in guns ready, like an old western." Sam shook his head. "But the guy got you with a knife and the woman electrocuted the girl."

He noticed that the room was stuffy; it was getting hard to breathe in here. "How?"

"They're like me, Dean," Sam's voice was barely a whisper. Dean had to read lips to understand his brother. "They have abilities. They're evil."

Dean shook his head. "You're not evil Sam. Never." Unable to let it go, Dean leaned in closer. "Where were they holding her?"

"Why, Dean?" Sam looked fearful, like he knew Dean would die this time. "What's so important about her?"

Not only was it too stuffy in here with air stale, but someone had installed a rotating floor in a friggin' hospital? Dean rubbed his forehead. How could he explain this?

"Sammy, the doctor here wants to run some tests on you. You," he paused. What was he supposed to say? Sam, you seem to have forgotten you have a niece and it's freaking me out?

"What, Dean?" Sam's hand snaked out to grab his forearm. He noticed his brother's hand was trembling.

Dean rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. "This headache is a lot worse than usual, isn't it?" He stared down his brother until Sam nodded. "They're going to sedate you and do a CT scan."

"Why?" Sam whined. That pitch of his brother's voice stabbed him in the heart.

"We need to be sure there's no brain damage." Dean admitted softly as Sam's eyes widened painfully. Sam's expression reminded him of a hurt puppy, only able to relate its pain nonverbally.

"But before they do," Dean leaned closer, "I really need to know everything you saw in your vision."

----------

Dean paced the waiting area. He turned what Sam said over in his mind, again and again. Friggin' useless visions! He pounded his fist in his palm, a comforting rhythm to soothe his mind. As though anything could soothe his ragged, frayed nerves. The few others in the waiting area kept shooting him looks, which Dean promptly ignored.

They tried sending some damn counselor to talk to him, make him leave the waiting area. After he threatened to bust back there and supervise the tests himself, the counselor decided maybe he should be left alone.

His cell phone rang. "Yeah?"

"Hey, Dean. Listen, got a question for you."

"Not now, Bobby!" Dean punched the button to disconnect the call, snarling at the unexpected intrusion. A stab of guilt came over him. Bobby would assume he had called during a hunt, screwed something up.

With a deep sigh, Dean sunk to one of the vaguely padded chairs, staring at his cell. He called back the last number.

"Dean? You okay?"

"What'd you want, Bobby?" His voice sounded too tired, like he was defeated.

"Dean? Tell me what the hell is going on. Right now." Yep, Bobby was pissed. Not that Dean could blame him.

Dean took a deep breath before answering. "Rae's been kidnapped. Sam's in the hospital. There's nothing I can do, and I'm about to lose my friggin' mind!"

"Whoa, whoa, hold up there. One thing at a time. You say Rae was kidnapped?"

"Yeah. Right out of our motel room." Again Dean felt guilt stabbing him. It sliced through his gut right into his heart. He failed again. Why was he always failing? How could he not be able to protect a six year old who slept in the same damn bed!

"Dean!"

"What?"

"I said, what's wrong with Sam? Why is he in the hospital?"

"Don't know," Dean admitted. "He, uh, saw something," he hoped Bobby would pick on the fact it was one of Sam's visions, "and then started convulsing."

"How bad is it?"

Dean buried his face in his hand, still clutching the phone to his ear. "They're checking for brain damage."

"Oh, God." There was a long pause. "Where are you, Dean? I'm heading your way."

Dean wanted to tell him no, that everything was under control. Bobby was not needed. But he couldn't. The phone dropped away from his ear. Rae needed to be found, Sam needed help, and Dean just could not do everything by himself. He lifted the phone back to his ear and relayed their location.

_Hurry, Bobby._ Dean stared at the doors they took Sam through hours ago. _Hurry_.

------------

Rae wiped the tears from her cheeks. Crying got her nowhere. It worked on Dad and Uncle Sam, but not these scary people. And the scary people hurt Uncle Sam, he was in the hospital. She was starting to understand why Dad always wanted to be around, why he always looked so worried when he thought no one was watching. People were crazy.

A plan formed in her mind. It was simple, and Dad said simple plans usually worked best. She grabbed Ted and beat on the bedroom door, hoping it would be the Scary Man who came.

The door opened. It was Scary Lady. Rae took an instinctive step back.

"Now what?" Scary Lady glared at her. Rae chanced a look down the hall, hoping to see Scary Man. "Don't bother. He's not here. What is it?"

Rae swallowed hard. She pointed down the hall to the bathroom.

"Yeah, guess we can't have you stinking the place up, huh?" Scary Lady stood aside.

Rae hurried to the bathroom, clutching Ted tight. She closed the door and locked it behind her.

"Hurry up!" Scary Lady's voice came from the hall. Yes, she needed to hurry. Rae stood on the closed toilet to reach the bathroom window. She unlocked it. Sliding it open was the hard part, but she did it. She tossed Ted out first, then climbed through. The ground looked like it was a long, long way down. She tried to turn around, to go out feet first, but Scary Lady started pounding on the door. There was no time! She tumbled forward, holding her arms over her head the way Dad taught her.

The ground was hard and she saw little bursts of light all around. Where was she? Scary Lady's voice yelling at her to hurry brought it all back with a wave of fear. Rae snatched Ted off the ground and ran. She ran as hard and as fast as she could.

TBC…


	7. Ch7 Arrivals

I hope this chapter doesn't look like filler, but I needed to get them to certain places. I think I'm starting to like a delusional Sam...**  
**

**Ch7 – Arrival**

A heavy set man in plaid, a hunting vest, and a dirty ballcap pulled low over his face burst into the waiting area. Dean looked up at the intrusion in what he now considered his own personal waiting area. The nurses had relocated the others to another waiting room where he could not bother them.

"Bobby!" Before he realized what he was doing, Dean found himself wrapping his arms around the burly man. He had not hugged anyone since his father died, but somehow it felt right.

Bobby cleared his throat, pounded Dean a couple of times on the back, and pulled away. "Dean? You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean rubbed a hand over his face. He suspected that he did not look okay, because he certainly did not feel it.

"Any word on Sam yet?" Bobby guided them back to the chairs.

"Nope. Just tests, tests and more tests." Dean sighed, stretching out his legs. He cocked his head to the side, giving Bobby an odd look. "How the hell did you get here so fast, Bobby? Last time I checked, South Dakota was at least a ten hour drive."

Bobby grinned. "That's why I was calling you. Working a job just a little upstate from here. Turns out I was in the area." He shrugged. "So, fill me in."

--------------

Rae held on to Ted as she ran. Her legs flew under her, carrying her further and further away from the scary people. She crossed streets without looking, sometimes hearing car horns behind her, but still she did not stop. The air became too thick to breathe, to hard to suck in and out, and her legs burned.

She allowed herself to fall to the ground on her back. She lay there, breathing heavy and feeling pure relief. Ted was on the ground next to her, held loosely in her hand. A wide smile covered her face. Dad was going to be so proud of her! After he was done being mad at Ted, of course. Dad got mad first, then proud. That was just Dad.

When she caught her breath, Rae sat up to look around. She had no idea where she was, but that was nothing new. She stood up, brushing the dirt off her legs and off Ted. She was just wondering how she could figure out where the hospital was when sirens came screaming down the street. Rae waited for a moment. A blue and white police car rounded the corner, so she started running in the other direction.

"Dad says police are nothing but trouble," she told Ted as they streaked through neighborhood yards. When a police car came to a screeching stop in front of her, in the middle of the next street, Rae stopped. She looked back, wondering if it was the same car.

A big man in a blue shirt and black pants grabbed her from behind. "Hey darling! Why you running?" He sounded out of breath.

Rae glared at him.

"Got her!" He shouted at the car, waving with one hand while the other gripped Rae tightly by the arm. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he could hold on as tight as Dad.

"Hang on," the man bent down, kneeling to look her in the eye. She looked away. "What are you running from? You lost? Somebody after you?"

Rae tried to narrow her eyes the way Dad did while she glared at him.

"Not a talker, huh? Okay, in the car you go." He half lead, half carried her to the police car and locked her into the back seat. She was a little relieved they had a seatbelt for her.

He turned around from the Sam seat in the front to tell her, "They'll bring someone down to the station to talk to you, so we can find your parents. Okay?" He smiled. Okay, he was definitely nicer than Scary Man, and way nicer than Scary Lady, but talk? Right. Don't think so. Besides, she knew where Dad and Uncle Sam were – at the hospital.

When she thought the police in the front seat were not looking, Rae tried the door. "It's locked." She glanced up. The man driving was talking to her. "Don't even think about it."

Rae made a face, but she relaxed into the seat. It smelled funny in here, like old food and dirty people. She crossed her arms over Ted as she stared out the window.

--------------

"Damn, Dean. This just…sucks." Bobby leaned back into his chair. "So, uh, why are you in here all alone? I woulda figured there would be more people waiting. It is a waiting room."

Dean pressed his lips together as he avoided looking Bobby in the eye. Apparently Bobby understood, because he breathed out an "Ooohhh."

A nurse crashed through the doors. "Mister Mahogoff! This way!" She waved frantically at them.

Dean bolted for the doors, breaking into a full run as he followed the frantic nurse. He could hear Bobby's pounding steps not far behind. The woman in light blue scrubs stopped in the hall and pointed into a room. Dean pounded in at full tilt, to come to a full stop only two steps later.

Sam had a doctor in a headlock and was holding a syringe against the man's neck. His eyes were wild, unfocused. He was backing away toward the door and Dean, dragging the doctor with him.

"Sammy?" Dean asked softly, hoping not to startle his brother.

Sam's head snapped around. "About time!" he barked. "You have any idea what they tried to do to me?"

"Sam. What are you doing?" Dean edged around so he could stand face to face with his younger brother.

"They were talking about cutting my head open, Dean!" Sam shouted, pressing the needle harder against his hostage's throat.

"Sammy, I'd never let that happen," Dean took a tentative step closer. "You know I'd never let anyone do that to you."

"They weren't going to tell you, Dean!" Sam's shout rose to a scream. "They lied! They're all in on it!"

"In on what, Sam?" Dean stepped closer; Sam still did not back away.

"The plan." Sam's feverish eyes found Dean's. "It's the demon's plan, Dean. He's going to turn me, any way he can." Sam leaned closer to Dean, and Dean noticed the needle was pricking the doctor's artery. "It'll torture you, kill you, if that's what it takes to get to me," Sam's whisper was urgent, fearful.

"Sammy, we won't let that happen, okay?" Dean reached out and gently pried the needle away from the doctor's throat. "We're in this together, remember?" He had to force Sam to let go of the syringe, but he knew Sam could have given a much harder fight. Dean did not break eye contact with his brother as he held out the improvised weapon. Unseen hands took it from him. "Think you can let go of him now, Sammy? Please?"

Sam's head cocked to one side, regarding Dean. "But we need a hostage to get out of here, Dean."

"No we don't, Sam. We can just walk out. I promise. Now how about you let him go, huh?" Dean pleaded with this irrational version of his brother, wondering if he would have to make good on this promise and how bad the fallout would be if he didn't.

The way Sam's hands moved on the doctor's head looked like he just might break the man's neck. Dean held up a hand. "Don't Sam!" He watched Sam's eyes go wide. "Sam, I mean it. You let him go, right now!" Sam's hands fell to his side.

Dean reached out to grab the doctor and shove the shaking man out of the way. He held out a hand. "Sammy, come on. Let's go."

Sam's tense, angry face relaxed. He let Dean grab his arm and lead him out of there. "So you meant it?" Sam asked. "You really will get me out of here?"

"Of course I will, Sam." Dean motioned to one of the other doctors. He lead Sam past Bobby, whom Sam stared past as if he did not recognize the man. The doctor grabbed another syringe and filled it as he rushed after Dean. He slapped it into Dean's outstretched palm as the brother's sauntered slowly down the hall. "Sam, you know I would never let anything happen to you, right?"

Sam nodded. "Right."

"And that I would never let you hurt an innocent person, right?"

Sam's face was deadly serious as he waggled his finger at Dean. "You promised!"

"Yeah, I did." Dean stopped Sam in the middle of the hall. He glanced back. Bobby was only a couple of steps behind. "That's why I have to do this." Dean stabbed the needle deep into Sam's buttock, thumbing the plunger.

Sam screamed, lashing out at Dean. He knocked Dean to the floor then pulled the syringe out. "How could you?" he screamed in his betrayal. "What did you do?"

Dean looked up from the floor. "My job." He watched as the heavy sedative started to take affect. Sam's tall frame become less sturdy, his eyes glazed over, and a slow smile spread over his face.

"Dean!" Sam stumbled toward him. "Dude, why are you on the floor?"

Bobby helped Dean to his feet.

"Bobby!" Sam wrapped his long arms around Bobby, the second uncomfortable hug within an hour. "When did you get here?"

"Right before you tried to kill your doctor," Bobby replied, trying to smile but failing.

"Huh?" Sam raked a hand through his hair, disheveling the mess it already was.

"Come on, Sam. Let's get you back to your room. I really need to have a nice, long talk with that doctor of yours." Dean took his baby brother by the elbow and guided him gently back to the assigned hospital room.

Bobby waited just outside the door, ready to warn the doctor that he might have escaped the younger brother's wrath, but the older was still coherent.

-----------------

"I want to know exactly what you said in front of him," Dean hissed at Sam's doctor. The man was about Dean's age with short black hair and thin wire-frame glasses, which Dean was considering wrapping around the man's neck.

"His brain is swelling. We were merely discussing methods of relieving the pressure." He spread his hands wide, as though Dean should have been able to see the obvious.

Dean's jaw felt heavy. "You were gonna cut his head open?" Without thinking, Dean advanced on Sam's doctor. He noticed the man had a couple of inches on him, but that was not going to help the doctor. He felt the pressure in his hands and knew he was sporting two fists, which were moving into position.

"Hold on, Mr. Mahogoff." Sam's doctor took a step back. "We would not have done anything without your approval, of course."

"Funny," Dean growled, "Sam seemed to think you weren't going to consult me."

"He's delusional!" The doctor shouted, stumbling back a few steps.

"No more waiting rooms," Dean pushed the man against the wall. "From now on, you don't do anything without my supervision. Understood?"

The doctor nodded, gasping. Dean released his grip. He pointed to Bobby, who was standing next to Sam's bed. "That's Bobby. If I can't be here for some reason, he will be." Dean's eyes narrowed. "And he has my cell number."

The doctor nodded, swallowing hard. "Right. No problem. But I will insist on Sam being kept in restraints."

"For now," Dean agreed to the compromise.

---------------

"Okay, let's think about this logically," Ronnie paced the room. "A little kid outside, running, by herself will probably attract attention."

"Which we don't need," Luce pointed out.

"I'd guess if anyone saw her, they might call 911." Ronnie stopped pacing. "And that means she would be at the police station." He headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Luce demanded. "You can't just walk into a police station and demand they hand her over."

"Why not?" Ronnie smiled. "I'm the distraught father of a mute child. You know, it'd probably go over even better if her mother were there, too."

Luce grumbled something under her breath. "Fine." She followed Ronnie out to the van. "But we can't be sure that they won't figure out she was kidnapped."

"That was two towns over," Ronnie shrugged, opening his door. "Besides, if they are able to figure it out, all the more reason for you to be there. Give them a shocking experience." He winked at her.

"You know, the kid likes you better," Luce told him as they pulled out of the driveway.

"Not my fault she has better taste than you do," Ronnie replied. "I am surprised the Winchesters haven't shown up yet. I would have thought that Sam would be getting some pretty disturbing visions by now." He grinned.

"You're looking forward to this, aren't you?" Luce asked, turning in her seat to look at him. "Do you really think we can turn him? Just the two of us?"

Ronnie was still smiling. "I hope so. Major brownie points for us."

"I was never a Brownie," Luce snapped.

Ronnie barked out a laugh. "No kidding!" The police station was in sight.

TBC…


	8. Ch8 Reunion

Thanks again for the generous reviews! So far I have been able to keep up and answer them all, but I wanted to put a big THANK YOU out here anyway!

**Ch8 – Reunion**

Dean listened to Sam's doctor drone on about the procedure they wanted to do. The words were not making sense and the man's voice seemed unable to penetrate the haze that had settled over his brain after the first statement: 'Sam has too much fluid on his brain, it is causing pressure that could lead to brain damage.' Brain damage. Sam could have brain damage.

"Dean," Bobby's voice attempted to penetrate the haze. "Dean." There was a gentle shove to his shoulder.

Dean turned unfocused eyes on Bobby. "What?"

"They need your permission to put in the shunt. Can they, or not?" Bobby's soft blue eyes were boring into him.

Dean shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know. Explain that part again."

The doctor took a deep breath before he launched into the description of the shunt, how it would drain the excess fluid off the brain into Sam's abdomen where it would simply be reabsorbed by his body. It sounded simple but Dean knew that Sam, in his current state, would think it was all a trick.

He looked up at the doctor. "Would you be able to…" he was cut off by the hard rock tune of his cell phone going off. Frantic fingers scrambled for the phone. Dean stabbed the button to accept the call as he put it up to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Mister Mahogoff?" A woman's voice came through.

"Yes?"

"You have reported a child missing. Six years old with light brown hair?"

His heart pounded in his chest. _Oh, please…_ "That's right." He swallowed past the lump in his throat.

"Does she talk?"

He closed his eyes. _Please_. "Not usually. She won't talk to anyone except me and my brother."

He heard a sigh of relief from the other end. "We may have found her, then. We have a young child who refuses to speak, dressed in clothes that match your description carrying a brown teddy bear."

Dean let out the breath he had been holding. "Sounds like her. Where are you?"

The woman with the local police department gave him directions. Dean nodded his head as he memorized them. Bless the Amber Alert system. When he hung up and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, Sam's doctor was glaring at him. Oh, right. No cell phones back here.

"Sorry," he said, though he did not feel sorry in the least. Dean turned to Bobby. "I have to go. Keep an eye on Sam for me?"

"Did they find her?" Bobby asked, the emotion in his voice strong.

"Maybe. They think so. She's two towns over at the police station. I have to go." He stood, his feet feeling more steady than they had all day.

"Wait! Dean!" Bobby jumped to his feet. "What about the shunt?"

Dean glared at the doctor for a long moment. Irrational, emotional Sam he could handle. But brain damaged Sam? "Do it."

-----------

The nice officer who brought her juice told Rae they had called her dad. She relaxed into the hard metal chair. Dad would be here soon. She would be safe with Dad.

A tall woman from Child Services came in to talk to her. Rae just stared, refusing to even nod or shake her head. Dad and Uncle Sam had warned her about these people, how they try to take you away from your family. Rae knew better than to talk to her. Dad would be here soon, he would take care of everything.

While the woman tried offering Rae a candy bar, like she would fall for something stupid like that, she heard a man's voice. Her head popped up. Was it? Could it be?

"Sammie Rae!" The man's voice barked.

"Daddy!" she screamed, much to the woman's shock. She ran to the door of the little room they had her in, but it was locked. "Daddy! Daddy!" Rae pounded on the door with one hand, holding Ted tight and safe with the other.

"Rae, you in there?" She heard his voice from the other side.

She took a deep breath to scream "DADDY!"

"Open this damn door. Now!"

She jumped back, expecting the door to fly open because Dad kicked it in. Instead she heard the lock turn and the door opened cautiously. There he was, standing just behind the nice policeman who gave her juice.

Rae bolted through the open door, crashing into her Dad's legs. Strong hands shoved her back inside the room and she heard the door shut. Those same strong hands, Dad's hands, held her away.

"You okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?" Dad knelt in front of her, checking her arms and back, running his hands up and down her legs. "Sammie Rae! Did they hurt you?" he demanded, shaking her by the shoulders.

Dad looked scared, which scared her. She shook her head. Then his arms encircled her, drawing Rae into a tight embrace. She wrapped her arms around Dad's neck, holding tight. It felt so good, so safe, to be in Dad's arms again. She never wanted to let go.

She felt herself lifted up as Dad stood. He turned to talk while Rae buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Is there anything I need to sign? Any paperwork?" Dad's voice sounded funny, but Rae did not look up. She needed to hang on tight, hold on to her Dad.

"Mister Mahogoff? I'm Sue Slatter with Child Services. I have been trying to talk to Rae, but she has been uncooperative. I need to ask you a few questions." The woman did not sound like she was used to the word 'no.'

She felt Dad's head nod and they sat in a chair. Dad shifted her around so Rae was sitting in his lap. She was afraid he might make her let go of his neck but it felt like he was holding her tighter, pressing her against his chest.

"Go ahead." Dad's voice changed. He sounded like he usually did right before picking a fight with Uncle Sam.

"You say this is your daughter?" Rae felt Dad nod. "Can you explain why she ran from the officers who found her? Why she has refused to talk to anyone here?"

Rae snuggled closer to Dad. This woman was nearly as scary as Scary Lady. She shivered at the thought and felt Dad rub his hand on her back.

"You okay?" he whispered in her ear. Rae nodded. Everything was okay with Dad here. "I'm going to tell her, okay?" She took a deep breath, considering it. Rae knew if she wanted Dad would not tell them, but he was terrible at making up stories that explained why she did not talk. The truth was easier, and usually made people feel bad for asking. She nodded.

Rae felt Dad take a deep breath. "Her mother was killed, mauled to death, right in front of her. She didn't speak for a while after that." No one spoke. Dad's hand rubbed harder on her back when she pressed her face deeper into his neck, breathing hard. "Anything else?" Dad sounded a little mad. Just a little.

"What about running from the police?" The woman asked, her voice softer this time. Rae was not going to look up.

Dad shrugged. "No idea. Guess it's something we'll need to work on." She felt him turn in the chair. "Now can we go? My brother is in the hospital and I'd really like to get back."

"Sure," it was the juice policeman. "Why don't you wait here while I get the release forms."

Rae felt Dad nod. She waited, not wanting to look up while that woman was still in the room. The woman made a sound, cleared her throat. Rae clung tight to Dad.

"Must be difficult," she said.

"Sometimes," Dad told her, "but mostly we're just happy she's around."

Rae felt the smile creep onto her face. She hugged Dad tighter until pulled at her arms saying, "Easy there, Sunshine. I still need to breathe."

That reminded her. What about Uncle Sam? She lifted her head, careful not to look at that woman. Pressing her mouth against Dad's ear, Rae whispered, "Why is Uncle Sam in the hospital?"

Dad cleared his throat. "Uncle Sam is, uh, sick."

A terrible thought leapt into her mind. "Is he gonna die?"

"No, no, no. Sam's not gonna die." Dad looked really serious. Dad only looked serious when it was serious.

"But he's real sick? Real bad?" She asked. When she heard that woman gasp, Rae realized someone other than Dad heard her. A little gasp escaped as she plunged her face back into Dad's neck.

"He's pretty sick," Dad said, rubbing her back again. "But the doctors are going to make him better."

Rae nodded into his neck, but Dad sounded too much like he was trying to believe it, too.

"Here you are, sir," the juice policeman was back. She clung to Dad as he leaned over to sign the papers. She heard the rustle then Dad stood up. Finally! Now they could leave. Dad shook hands with the juice policeman and even that woman before he carried her out of the room. When Rae felt the sunshine again, she breathed with relief.

"Finally! What took you so long?" Rae glared at Dad.

Dad glared back. "What were you doing running away from the police? Didn't you know I'd have every cop in the state looking for you?"

"Well, isn't this a nice family reunion?"

Rae tried to scream, but no noise came from her mouth. It was Scary Man! She looked at Dad, but he was not worried. Dad ignored Scary Man, heading for the car. Scary Lady stepped out in front of them before Dad could carry her that far.

"Move, lady," Dad growled. He looked serious mad now. Rae had a really, really bad feeling.

Scary Lady nodded to Scary Man, who Rae could see was standing behind them. Dad set her down, motioning for Rae to step back, out of the way.

"No!" She screamed as a hubcap sailed through the air at Dad's head.

Dad saw it and ducked. He glared at Scary Man. "That all you got?"

"Nope." Scary Man grinned. Dad was propelled backwards into a car, his feet dragging on the ground like something invisible smashed into him. Dad reached inside his jacket, where Rae knew he kept his favorite gun. She watched, helpless, as the gun soared through the air into Scary Man's hand. "I don't think so, Dean."

Dad had a funny look on his face. He did not look happy at all.

"Yes, I know your name. I know all about your little family, especially about Sam."

Uh-oh. Dad's face was turning red. He lunged forward right at Scary Man. Scary Lady reached out as he rushed by. When she touched him, he fell and shook on the ground. Scary Lady looked surprised.

"I barely touched him!" She shouted at Scary Man.

Scary Man shrugged. "Get the van. Hurry up."

Rae rushed to Dad, grabbed his shirt and shook him. "Dad! Daddy, wake up!" Tears fell from her eyes, making little wet spots on Dad's shirt. "Daddy!"

"Well, well," Scary Man stood over them, "looks like you can talk after all. What do you know."


	9. Ch9 Headaches

All right - we are building to the climax now! Won't be much longer!!

**Ch9 – Headaches**

Dean's head felt like he had a run-in with a semi. Again. And there was a weight on his chest preventing him from breathing. He tried to move, but the weight clung viciously. He thought about looking to see where he was, what was wrong, but his eyelids were held down by fifty pound lead weights. Maybe he could just shift out from under this thing? He tried to scoot to the side.

"Daddy!" Rae's stricken cry caused the lead weights to fly off his eyelids.

He bolted upright, immediately regretting it as the room spun around him. Dean propped himself up with one hand while reaching for panicked Rae with the other.

"Hey, you okay?" He realized that the weight on his chest must have been Rae. Whoops.

She shook her head, pointed at the door. "Scary people," she whispered.

"Yeah, I know," Dean shut his eyes, willing the room to stop spinning. "Where are we?"

"Scary house," she whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" he whispered back, opening his eyes again. The room wasn't exactly stable, but it quit spinning.

"Scary Man likes to listen at the door," she informed him in his ear.

"Oh." Dean winked at her. He stood, crossed to the door. With a raised hand he motioned for her to hide behind the bed. Then he pounded on the door as hard as he could. "Hey! What the hell!"

The door flew open, revealing the guy who had slammed him halfway across the parking lot without lifting a finger. Dean felt an invisible force knock the wind out of him, shoving him backward against the bed. He tried not to grin. This was not nearly as bad as last time. The guy must not have recovered yet either.

"What do you want?" Dean shouted, pinned helpless against the bed.

"I told you. We want Sam." The man stepped back and the door slammed shut.

Dean felt the force on his abdomen relax and he was able to sink gratefully to the floor. "Sammy," he breathed, unsure what he could do next.

Rae rushed to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck again. He did not know whether to feel relieved that they were still alive, or like a failure for allowing them to be caught. Again.

"Rae? How did we get here? Didn't any of the cops notice those two taking us?" The pounding in his head moved to that spot right behind his eyes that he could not just ignore.

She pulled back from the tight embrace. "Scary Man threw more hubcaps at the police and Scary Lady drove the van."

"Hubcaps?" Dean was disgusted. "The police were stopped by some flying hubcaps?"

Rae frowned. "Well, that car he made fly into the front door of the police station probably scared them too."

"Oh, yeah. That would do it." Dean nodded. Well, at least it was going to make the news, for all that was worth. At this point he was just hoping Bobby was bored enough to watch daytime news.

------------

Bobby flipped through the limited television channels, waiting for Sam to wake. The doctor had warned him Sam might not come out of the anesthesia before tomorrow, so he hoped Dean and Rae would be back well before then. Bobby preferred not to think of John Winchester's sons as weapons, but sometimes the analogy just fit. Right now, Dean was the weapon on safety and Sam was firing erratically. Bobby preferred it the other way around.

"Wait." He started at Sam's voice. Bobby turned slowly to look at their patient. Sam's dark eyes were wide open. "Go back to the news," he instructed.

Bobby did as he was told, stopping on an afternoon news break. The report was about a terrorist attack on a local police station. He cut his eyes at Sam, who was watching intently. The car flying into the front entrance was pretty spectacular.

"Damn," Bobby breathed, leaning forward to watch the small screen.

"That's Dean's car," Sam's voice was tight. Bobby squinted at the screen. There was a black car in the background, but no way he could tell what the make was much less if it was Dean's.

"Dunno, Sam." By the look on Sam's face, Bobby figured he was walking on thin ice. "Maybe."

"Get my clothes," Sam demanded.

Bobby pushed his hat back. "Now, Sam. This is a really bad idea. Are you aware that you just came out of surgery?"

Sam's face did not change. "Get my clothes, Bobby. Or I'll find them myself."

Bobby sighed. "Sam, I don't even know if you're allowed to move yet. Hell, you weren't supposed to wake up before tomorrow!"

"Fine." Sam sat up, swinging his long, bare legs over the side of the bed.

"Stop right there. I'll find your clothes." Bobby held up a hand, averting his eyes. "Just don't go anywhere for a minute." He looked through the room. There was a bag in one corner of the room. When Bobby opened the bag he found neatly folded clothes and hoped they were Sam's. Without looking directly at Sam, he set the clothes on the bed before turning his back.

"You do know this is stupid, right?" He waited for Sam to answer, but there was only the rustle of material behind him. "You'll probably collapse before we get out of this room." Still no response from Sam. "That's if you don't kill yourself with this nonsense first!"

He felt a hand grip his shoulder. Bobby looked back into Sam's determined dark eyes. "Let's go." Sam's voice was more of a growl and Bobby knew there was no talking him out of this now. He led them out of the room, Sam's fingers digging into his shoulder, wondering just how pissed off Dean was going to be at him.

Sam's doctor practically ran into them in the corridor. He stopped abruptly, blocking their path. "What the hell is my patient doing out of bed?" he demanded.

"Not my idea," Bobby replied.

"Go," Sam's fingers squeezed tighter as he pushed on Bobby. Bobby glanced back at Sam's pale face. This was a really bad idea. He gave Sam's doctor a helpless look and shrug.

------------------

Sam shoved Bobby ahead of him, determined to get out of this hospital before any more of the demon's plans could be put into action. Dean was in serious trouble, all because of him. Not to mention little Rae, and that kid had already experienced more in her tender six years than anyone should have to ever.

His doctor was trying to block their path. Bobby said something, but Sam was not paying attention. "Go," he ordered the older man, trusting Bobby to get him the hell out of here. They walked by his doctor when the man tried to grab Sam. Now, Sam considered himself long on patience; hell, he spent practically every waking moment with Dean and had not killed him. Yet. But that man had just crossed a serious line, trying to keep him from helping Dean. As if it had a brain of its own his hand flashed out, gripping the doctor's arm by the wrist. With pressure applied to the wrist in a certain way, this grip was quite painful. Sam watched, detached, as the doctor crumpled to the floor, mouth open in a silent cry.

He dropped the doctor's limp wrist. "Don't try to stop us." Another squeeze on Bobby's shoulder propelled them onward.

"Little rough on him, weren't you, Sam?" Bobby did not turn his head.

"Maybe," Sam admitted. "But right now, I don't care. We have to get to Dean and Rae."

"Oh, so you remember her now?"

_What_? "Of course I remember Rae. What kind of question is that?" A wave of dizziness hit him as they entered the elevator, making Sam hang on tighter to Bobby's shoulder.

"You didn't before they stuck that thing in your head." Bobby stood next to Sam now, his eyes narrowed into accusing slits.

"What thing?" Sam asked, genuinely surprised.

"Sam, you've just had brain surgery. You need to be in bed, where the doctors can monitor you. This is just stupid!" Bobby looked mad. Well, maybe not really as much mad as worried.

"Brain surgery?" Sam ran his free hand through his hair, noticed it was oily to the touch. There was a tightness in his chest he had not noticed before which felt suspiciously like surgical staples. How could he not have noticed that when he was dressing? Probably because he was too worried about Dean.

The others, the ones like him, were going to kill Dean. He saw it and unless he did something about it, Dean would die. There was no doubt in Sam's mind. He would have to worry about doctors and hospitals later. He shook his head as the elevator doors opened. "We have to get to Dean."

Sam was afraid Bobby might not drive him, but his father's friend seemed to realize just how urgent this was. Bobby kept looking over at him like he expected Sam to keel over dead any second, but he followed all of Sam's instructions to the letter. An hour later they were parked on a residential street that looked like it was solid rent houses.

------------

Bobby stared through his windshield at the little rent house. "Okay. Now what?" He turned to look at Sam. Oh sure, it would happen now. Sam was slouched in the seat, his eyes rolled back in his head, body shaking. Oh, shit! Dean was going to kill him!


	10. Ch10 Confrontations

Thanks for the encouraging reviews. I've planned for this to be the last chapter, unless of course, there is an outcry for just one more. I hope you like it!

**Ch10 – Confrontations**

Bobby reached over to grab Sam. The shaking under his hands was terrifying, and all he could think of was John Winchester. _'Keep an eye on my boys, Bobby. They're going to need you.' _Those were John's last words to him when he tried to relate the impossible state of the Impala. It was as if John knew he was going to die. If Sam died because of Bobby... He didn't even want to think of the typical Winchester response. He knew he would be lucky if Dean just killed him.

"Sam! Sam, wake up!" Bobby tried to shake the boy, but he doubted Sam could feel it during the convulsions. "Sam! It's Dean!" Okay, dirty pool, but did he really have a choice? "They're killing him!"

The shaking subsided and Sam's eyes opened. They were distant and unfocused, but at least they were open.

"Sam?" he asked tentatively.

"Not yet," Sam replied, his voice soft. He was no doubt drained by his most recent 'episode.' He blinked those big, brown eyes before looking at Bobby. "Soon. They want to draw me out."

"So you're gonna just walk right into it? That's pretty stupid, Sam." Bobby glared at him. One of John's boys should know better!

Sam shook his head slowly, wincing slightly. "It's the only way," he breathed. "Only way to save them both."

"And what about you?" Bobby asked. Forget Dean! John was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

Sam's eye focused on him. "Dean has a plan. All I have to do is back him up."

Bobby felt his eyes widen. Well, that was news to him! "What plan? How do you know?" His pulse quickened as Sam's smile resembled Dean's have-I-got-a-plan-for-you grin. Even if they managed to survive this, Bobby figured John was going to haunt him.

------------

Dean whispered in Rae's ear, "Got it? Think you can do it?"

She looked thoughtful, so Dean waited. Finally she nodded at him, though her eyes said she was scared to death.

"I'll make sure they hurt me before they ever hurt you," he promised. At his words, a waterfall issued from her eyes. _What the hell?_ "Rae, what's wrong? What happened?"

Rae plastered herself against him, bawling her eyes out. _Shit! What did he say? All he said was they would hurt him before they would hurt… Oh. Damn it. That's what happened with her parents, wasn't it? Shit!_

Dean held her close, rocking her gently. "Ssshhh. It's okay," he murmured softly. _I am a complete idiot._ "We're going to be fine. This is going to work." He rubbed her back, trying to be reassuring, however desperate he actually felt. This kind of thing was easier with Sam, because he always saw through Dean's bullshit and was usually content with the sentiment. Rae really needed to believe it.

Finally, she dried her eyes on Dean's shirt. Sniffling, she nodded at him. "I can do it," she whispered. "But I escaped from the bathroom before, do you really think they'll let me use it again?"

Dean grinned at her, wiping her cheeks dry with his hands. "I'll make sure of it. It'll work even better this way." He winked at her. "Trust me?"

She nodded. "I'm ready." Rae clutched his hand tight as Dean knocked on the door. He stood back, in case it flew open with the force that moved cars.

The door creaked as it opened normally. The guy Rae called Scary Man, Ronnie, stood just outside. He felt Rae squeeze his hand tighter.

"She needs to go to the bathroom," Dean explained, moving to lead her across the hall.

"Just her. Not you," Ronnie snapped. "And since she escaped last time, I'll have to watch her."

"Over your dead body," Dean ground out. "No pervert is watching my kid use the bathroom. Call that bitch back in here. She can keep an eye on Rae." He felt Rae's arm snake around his leg, holding tight. His hand was rubbing the top of her head.

Ronnie regarded him for a moment. "You know I can force you to submit."

Dean glared back. "You can beat the shit of me. You can't make me submit."

"Luce!" Ronnie shouted, his eyes not leaving Dean for an instant. "Come here!"

"Yeah?" She appeared in the hall. "What now?"

"Take the kid to the bathroom," Ronnie told her, not breaking eye contact with Dean.

"Why me?"

"Why not?" Ronnie snapped.

"Fine." She pushed by Ronnie, reached out for Rae's arm. "Come on."

Dean grabbed her arm as she reached for Rae, his left fist flying at the woman's face. She crumpled under the blow. "Run!" he shouted, throwing himself into Ronnie. "Run!" Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see Rae running for the front door.

---------

Sam stared at the little rent house, anxiously waiting for a sign, any sign, that Dean was inside. He had no idea what Dean's plan was, only that it was going to get his brother killed. Sam was not going to allow that.

The front door flew open and Rae ran out of the house. "Now, Bobby!" Sam shouted with far more energy than he felt. They ran toward the house. Rae was running toward him, but he saw Bobby scoop her up and dash out of the way.

Sam charged for the house, one of Bobby's extra guns in hand. He burst through the front door as Dean's body sailed past and crashed into the far wall. With a scream of rage Sam lifted the gun, intent to kill the man from his vision. He felt the gun wrenched out of his hand. Helpless, Sam watched it fly away out of sight.

"Sam Winchester. So nice to finally meet you," the man smiled as he spoke. "Took you long enough to get here."

He heard another crash. Sam spun around. Dean's body was slammed repeatedly against the wall. His brother's eyes were closed and Sam guessed he wasn't breathing too well either.

"Stop it!" Sam shouted, verging on panic.

"I think you know what will stop it." The man grinned. He looked like a poke player who knew he was holding the winning hand, but Sam knew a few things about cards, too.

"Yeah. I do." Sam stepped forward, holding out his hand.

The man laughed as he took Sam's hand. His laugh changed to a grunt as Sam bore down, squeezing for all his was worth. Even in his present state, Sam knew he might be able to break a hand bone or two. The man gasped. He looked around wildly until his eyes settled on something. Sam hoped his theory was right, that this would work, for all their sakes.

He noticed movement from the corner of his eye. It was a table lamp hurtling through the air, right at his head. Sam choose to look the man in the eye, the man who was nearly his exact age and possessed abilities for the war that was to come, and who had chosen the wrong side. Sam held this man's gaze, mentally calculating when the lamp should impact. It never came.

The man's eyes widened. He broke eye contact with Sam to look away. Sam followed his gaze. The lamp hovered in midair inches away from Sam's head. Sam could not suppress his smile. Apparently he was right!

"Sammy," Dean's voice croaked from where his body lay against the far wall. Sam's heart tightened, but he chanced a look at his brother. Dean's hand was pointing. "Watch out!"

The woman staggered into the room. She was heading for Sam until she noticed Dean was still alive. Pure anger and hatred passed over her face as she headed for Dean. Sam shifted to hang onto the man with his other hand so he could grab the woman. His skin tingled when he touched her. It was distinctly unpleasant, but there was no pain.

"Dean! Get out of here!" Sam shouted, unsure how long he could hang on to them both.

Dean scrambled to his feet. Sam winced at how long it took Dean to stand, and how unsteady his brother looked. Dean moved halfway between them and the door. Sam felt his brother's hand on his shoulder.

"Not without you," Dean's said sharply.

"No!" Sam shouted. "If I let go, their abilities will work again!"

He heard Dean's boots shuffle toward the kitchen. When he came back, Dean was holding Bobby's extra gun. He pressed it against the man's skull. "Not if they're dead," Dean said simply. Sam watched in horror as Dean applied pressure to the trigger.

"Wait!" Sam shouted. He wasn't sure if he could live with Dean killing them on his conscience, and he knew Dean couldn't. After Riverdale Dean had been plagued with nightmares for weeks, though he could never admit to it. Dean met Sam's eyes; they had come to the same conclusion. Dean twisted the handgun around, raising his hand high above his head. The butt of the gun came down with a sharp crack across the back of the man's head.

The woman reached out her free hand to Dean, but Sam caught it. "Hurry," he whispered, the room starting to spin around them. A second crack and the woman's arms were limp. Sam let go, unable to hold himself up any longer. He felt her hands slip from his.

"Sammy?" Dean's voice was so welcome and comforting. Sam felt himself slipping, slipping.

"Sammy?"

------------

"Sammy?" Dean's voice filtered through the darkness. Sam fought to open his eyes, but they were not cooperating. "Sammy?"

The light was way too bright, he told himself. Maybe he would wait until they turned down the lights. He tried to answer his brother instead. "Dean?" He felt like he was shouting, but his ears only heard a whisper.

"Uncle Sam!" A girl's squeal pierced his ears. Sam forced his eyes to open. Rae stood by his bed, jumping up and down with excitement.

"Rae? You okay?" She looked okay, but where were they?

"Hey sleeping beauty," Dean's voice again. Sam tried to turn his head, but it hurt too much. It was easier to roll toward the voice. Dean was sitting up in a hospital bed, grinning at him. "I don't think it helped," Dean was telling him, "you still look the same."

Sam was so relieved at the sight of his brother, alive and poking fun at him, he did not try to think of a retort. "How are you?"

Dean shrugged. "The usual. But Rae has been driving poor Bobby crazy." Dean's lop-sided grin covered most of his face. "I think Bobby has been rethinking the whole 'why don't I have grandkids' thing."

Sam chuckled, but the act burned deep in his chest.

"Dude, you don't look so good," Dean's hand was on the nurses' buzzer. "Maybe you should lie back down." That crease between Dean's eyes deepened. Sam took that as a signal to do just what Dean said, before his brother tried to get out of bed and force him to comply.

Sam took several deep breaths as Dean responded to the static-filled voice of the nurse. Dean wanted someone in here to check on Sam. He shook his head. Same old Dean. Thank God. Although Sam never wanted to admit it out loud, he liked Dean being protective and looking out for him. It was safe. It was…home.

"Well, well, look who's awake!" Bobby burst into their room. He tossed a white paper sack at Dean, who caught it with a wince. "Nothing for you," Bobby shook a finger at Sam, "you're just lucky to be alive."

"Oh, come on, Bobby." Dean dug into the white sack while Rae crawled up on the bed side him. "It wasn't that bad." He handed her a package of fries.

Bobby shoved his filthy ballcap back. "Are you kidding me? I fully expect to get home and find John there, ready to haunt me for the rest of my life over this little fiasco."

Sam tried to laugh, but his chest hurt too much. "So what's wrong with you, Dean? Why are you in here?" He forced his head to turn so he could look at his brother.

Rae piped up. "Daddy's ribs are broke and his lung got bruise-ed."

Dean scowled as he gave her a gentle shove. "Tattle-tale!" She laughed at him, shoving fries into her mouth.

"Sorry," Sam breathed.

"Not your fault," Dean said casually. "Although I'd really like to know how you stopped them from being able to, you know."

Sam had as much trouble avoiding The Dean Stare as Dean did with his puppy-dog-look. Sam sighed. "I think I'm immune."

"To?" Bobby prompted, settling in a chair between the beds.

"Other abilities. Remember Andy and his twin? Their ability didn't work on me at all. Max tried to lock me in a closet using his, that didn't work. So I figured," _after a particularly disturbing vision I have no intention of ever telling either of you_, "that I was developing an immunity."

"And that's it?" Dean asked skeptically. Sam didn't blame his brother for being skeptical this time, after all, he was lying.

"Yep," Sam closed his eyes. "That's it."

"I understand our patient is awake?" It was Sam's doctor. Sam was starting to hate that man.

**The End **

**(Unless, of course, you think it needs another chapter? If so, I need some suggestions on what to include.)**


	11. Ch11 Loose Ends

Okay, apparently I left a number of loose ends just flapping in the breeze. This chapter should clear those up. Sorry about that! Thanks to those of you kind enough to point them out!!

**Ch11 – The Loose Ends**

Dean winced as he dropped the first load on the floor between the two motel beds. He headed back out the door as Sam shuffled into the room with Rae holding his hand. Dean said nothing, just pointed to the closest bed. Sam nodded, avoiding his eyes. He sighed as he headed back out for his and Rae's bags. Not wanting to make a third trip, Dean slung his duffle over his shoulder so he could carry Rae's bags. She already had more stuff than he and Sam together.

His ribs protested the extra weight, but Dean ignored it. When he entered their room for the second time, Sam was lying on the bed and Rae had her cartoons on. Dean dumped their bags between the far bed and the wall. He walked back in front of the television and snapped it off.

"Hey! What'd you do that for?" Rae demanded, jumping to her feet.

"We need to talk," Dean said, sitting on his bed. He noticed Sam's eyes open, looking at him with interest. "I want to know exactly why you left our room the night Scary Man and Scary Lady got you."

He heard Sam stifle a chuckle and shot a look at his younger brother. Sam's face went appropriately grave.

Rae sighed. She held Ted up. "It was Ted's stupid fault! He opened the door and went outside. I had to go get him, he's my responsibility."

"What?" Sam sat up. "What did you say about Ted?" he demanded. Dean held up a hand, that was not the topic of discussion here. "Shut up, Dean! Rae, answer me."

Rae looked between the two. Dean could tell she was torn, that she wanted to please them both. So he nodded, giving her permission to answer Sam. He would not have her put in the middle. He had lived too many years like that to do it to someone else, especially her.

"Ted opened the door?" She said tentatively.

"After that," Sam barked, his dark eyes flashing.

"He's my responsibility? I had to go after him?" She looked between the two. Dean thought she looked lost, out of her depth, and he had no doubt that she was. He was a little confused, himself.

Sam turned blazing eyes on Dean. "You told her that," he accused, his voice angry. "You told her that Ted was her responsibility. That she had to take care of him."

Dean wondered if he looked as confused as he felt. "Yeah. So?" What the hell was wrong now?

Sam huffed a few times before he could continue. "That's what Dad told you, wasn't it? That you had to take care of me, that I was your responsibility." When Dean did not answer right away, Sam shouted, "Wasn't it?"

"Yeah. Of course." Dean cocked his head to regard his little brother. "You knew that." _What the hell?_

----------

Sam felt like screaming loud enough for his father to hear him from beyond the grave. _Knew that? He knew that? Hell no, he didn't know that! _He took a few deep breaths to try to regain some self control. He knew Dean always felt responsible, that Dad always told Dean to 'watch out for Sammy,' but he had NO idea Dad had placed complete responsibility for him on his brother's shoulders. Now a few things clicked into place in his mind, some things that had been a nagging worry for years made perfect sense. If their father were still alive, this would be the basis for the mother of all arguments!

"No," Sam was still trying to steady his breathing. "I didn't know that."

"No?" Dean shrugged. He turned away from Sam to talk to Rae. "Rae, if Ted ever pulls that again, you need to wake us up, okay? Under NO circumstances are you to set foot outside that door alone! Do you understand?"

Rae hung her head, a feeble "Yes, sir," coming from her mouth. She chanced a look up. "But what if it takes too long to wake you up? What if…"

"We'll buy you another bear," Sam was still staring at Dean. "Now go watch your shows."

Dean started. Sam knew it wasn't like him to interrupt when Dean was doing his 'Dad' thing, but they needed to talk. Now. He watched Dean turn the television back on before sitting on the opposite bed.

"Problem, Sam?" There was a hard edge to Dean's voice, but Sam did not care.

"When?" Sam demanded.

The worry line between Dean's eyes deepened. "When what?"

"When did Dad tell you that? How old were you?" Sam was not going to be put off this time. He was determined that none of Dean's stalling tactics were going to work. He had to know.

Dean stared back, his green eyes cold and hard, the way they usually got when he was being defensive about Dad. "Why? What does it matter?"

"It matters, Dean. How old were you?" Sam demanded. He was not sure if that throbbing in his head was residual headache from the severity of his visions or pure anger.

"What did you see in your visions?" Dean asked, his voice just as tight.

"Won't work, Dean. I want to know."

Dean nodded at him. "Fine. I want to know exactly what you saw in the hospital when they were running the tests, and in Bobby's truck." His voice was cold and sterile. Sam swallowed hard, he had not expected this. Well, actually, it figured that Bobby would narc on him, but he did not expect to be called out on it so soon. They just left the hospital an hour ago. "You go first, the vision in the hospital." Dean insisted.

Sam pursed his lips. "And then you tell me how old you were, and then I tell about the one in the truck. Is that it?"

Dean's arms crossed over his chest. Sam noticed a slight wince, but it may have been his imagination. Dean nodded. It was obvious he would not say anything else until Sam did. He felt the bed move. Sam glanced over to see Rae perched at the end of his bed, following the conversation silently.

"Maybe we should do this another time," Sam suggested, watching her.

"Nope. You brought it up, and this affects her just as much as it does us. We're a family." Sam gave a valiant effort not to roll his eyes at that. Did Dean have to play the family card every time?

"Fine." Sam fixed his eyes on the wall just behind Dean, right over his brother's head. "The one in the hospital was about," he cleared his throat, not really ready to share this just yet. But Dean was right, he started this. "It was about those two kids with abilities, like me…"

"Not exactly like you," Dean corrected. "Go on," he said with a nod.

Sam sighed. Dean was always doing that, he was way too touchy about Sam referring to himself as one of 'them.' "Anyway. I saw them plotting to capture you using Rae as bait. Then they were going to," his voice faltered there. How do you just say that?

"What?" His brother's voice was not as sharp but just as insistent.

Sam's eyes fell to his lap. "Do…stuff…to both of you. To try to make me join them. And I…" He bit his lip. This was going to piss off Dean, he knew.

"You what?" Dean demanded.

"I did," Sam finished weakly.

He felt thin arms reach around his waist. "Poor Uncle Sam!" Rae shouted into his side. "That's terrible!" She hugged him for a long minute. Sam looked to Dean, shocked by her reaction. He had expected them to be horrified, disgusted. Rae lifted her head and shook a finger in her face. "You are not allowed to see bad things like that anymore, Uncle Sam! You hear me, mister?"

Dean had a sad smile on his face, watching Rae hug Sam like that. When he caught Sam looking at him, the smile faded.

"That was it," Sam said, wondering if he still dared to make Dean hold up his end of the bargain.

"Damn it, Sammy! You should have told me!" Now Dean was mad. This was closer to the reaction he expected. "If I had known that, I might not have gone to get Rae alone. I would have brought some backup."

Sam lifted his eyebrows at his older brother. Yeah, right. "Backup? As in an extra weapon?"

Dean glanced away. Apparently that was exactly what his brother had been thinking. "An extra weapon against telekinesis and a woman who can electrocute people with her hands."

"I knew it! That's why it felt so familiar." Dean nodded to himself.

"She got you? Dean!" Sam stood, much to Rae's annoyance. He grabbed Dean's shoulders. "We should have had your heart checked! There could be damage!"

"Easy, Sammy," Dean pushed Sam back to the bed. "They do that routinely for unconscious patients." He thumped his chest with a fist. "I'm fine."

They sat silent, just looking at each other, for a long, uncomfortable silence.

"Daddy's turn," Rae broke the silence. They both looked at her, then Sam and Rae turned as one to look at Dean.

Dean shrugged. "I don't remember."

"Bullshit. Try again." Sam was not taking any of this avoidance crap. He told the truth, now it was Dean's turn.

Dean shrugged again. "I really don't see why you're so worked up about this. It isn't a big deal."

Sam took a deep breath. "If it isn't such a big deal, then you won't mind telling me how old you were." He tried to sound perfectly calm and reasonable, although he was dreading the answer. Sam had it figured out, he just needed to hear it to make it real, but he was not sure he wanted that either. No, he wanted Dean to tell him that his suspicions were wrong, that his brother was about seventeen when that happened.

Dean stared off into the distance, an odd look on his face. "I'm really not sure, Sammy. I don't remember too much about what happened after…after the fire." He could tell Dean was really concentrating. Afraid Dean might stop if distracted, Sam gathered Rae in his lap and pressed a finger over her lips. From the dirty expression on her face Sam guessed that Rae had no plans to say anything yet. He gave her an apologetic smile before returning his attention to Dean.

"Right after I know I looked after you and Dad. Dad was pretty messed up, crying and drinking all the time. Then he got better." Dean frowned. They waited. "It's pretty hazy after that. I do remember the day Dad sat me down and set you in my lap." The beginnings of a smile formed on his lips. "He said a bunch of stuff that I really didn't understand. Then Dad said that you were my job, my responsibility." Dean's eyes found Sam's. "He said it ever since. So what?"

That was not quite what Sam was expecting. "What do you mean, hazy? After Dad got better?"

Dean shrugged. "Don't remember. Your turn. Bobby's truck?"

Sam processed that information for a minute. After Dad got better, and by that Sam thought he meant Dad was not drinking and crying all the time, things got hazy until Dad placed responsibility for Sam squarely on Dean's shoulders. He glanced down at Ted. Rae did not speak when they took her in. Even after she started calling Dean 'Daddy' she still barely spoke. Then Dean gave her Ted. If Sam remembered correctly, it was shortly after Rae got Ted that she started talking, really talking, to both of them. That was Dad's solution? He shook his head. Sam decided he wanted to think Dad was absolutely desperate to do something like that with a little kid. Surely.

"Sam?" Dean's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Vision in the truck?"

"Oh, uh, nothing." Sam shrugged. "It was really nothing." He avoided Dean's eyes. Dean always knew when he was lying.

"Sammy, we had a deal. Two visions for one age. Give." Dean leaned forward, intent on making Sam look him in the eye.

"Later, Dean," Sam met his brother's gaze. "Later."

Dean's lips pressed tight. He gave a curt nod. "Fine. But I'm not dropping this."

Probably not, Sam silently agreed. Rae looked disappointed, she must have thought it was going to be pretty juicy.

"Rae, Uncle Sam needs to rest." Dean moved Rae off Sam's bed so he could lie down. "Go find something to play with."

Dean motioned for Sam to stand up. He pulled back the covers and nodded at the bed. Sam obediently lay down and allowed Dean to cover him up. As Dean pulled up the covers, he whispered, "When Rae's asleep, we're finishing this conversation. Go to sleep."

Sam's eyelids felt heavy. He fell asleep to the sounds of Rae imitating her favorite Disney movie.

A hand shaking his shoulder woke him. Sam blinked into the darkness. _What was it?_

"Sam. Get up." Dean was pulling him upright, whispering in the dark. Sam obeyed, though he had no idea why they were getting up in the middle of the night. Maybe Dean heard something? Sam reached for the weapons bag in the dark.

"Dude? What are you doing?" Dean's hand jerked him toward the door. His brother opened the door before propping Sam against it. "Stand there for a minute." Sam waited while Dean went back into the room and grabbed two chairs from the table. He hustled them out the door, setting them up against the exterior wall. Dean gave Sam a shove out, checked the lock on the door, and closed it. He opened it once to check it was not locked then shut it quietly.

Dean sat in the chair closest to the door, glaring at Sam in the dark. "So? Give."

Sam eased himself into the chair. His brain was still foggy with sleep. "Give what?"

He heard Dean growl. "Vision in Bobby's truck?"

"Oh," Sam ran a hand through his hair, grateful he was finally able to wash it before leaving the hospital, "that." He could feel Dean's heavy glare. He had hoped to avoid this altogether. When his brother remained silent, Sam knew there was no getting out of it.

"Your escape attempt," Sam admitted. "It wouldn't have worked."

"No?"

Sam chanced a look at his older brother. He appeared more interested than angry. Emboldened by Dean's calm attitude, Sam continued. "The woman would have electrocuted you again. Rae got away, but because she won't talk to strangers, it was days before they found your body in the abandoned house. And when she was told you were dead, she completely withdrew into herself again." Sam was caught in Dean's gaze, unable to look away. "I couldn't let that happen."

Dean looked away, staring into the parking lot at his car. "Okay." Neither of them spoke for a while. "Why did you want to know how old I was?" His voice was so soft this time, Sam wondered if he imagined it.

Sam chewed on his lip before answering. "I think I understand why Dad did it," he admitted. "But in most families, that would be a pretty shitty thing to do to a little kid."

Dean turned in his chair to face Sam. "So why do you think he did it?"

Sam looked for the typical defensive anger, but there was only open curiosity. That in itself was enough to shock Sam, but he tried to hide it. "Off-hand, I'd say for the same reason you gave Rae that bear and told her the same thing. Unfortunately, I really can't argue with the results. For either of you."

Dean looked away, staring at his car again. Sam waited. "Ready to get back to bed?"

"Not really," Sam admitted.

"Me either." Dean cleared his throat. "I never thought…" his voice trailed off. Sam decided not to guess what Dean was trying to say here. "I always assumed it was because he needed my help."

Dean still needed it. He still needed to be needed. Sam nearly gasped with the realization. "He did, Dean, and I still do. So does Rae. We need you."

Dean sat still for what felt like forever. Then he stood up, grabbing his chair. "Come on. This night air can't be good for you."

Sam stood and opened the door for Dean to carry in the chairs. "So how do you think we're going to get Rae to talk to other people?" He ran his hand over the door lock, setting it back to automatically locking.

Sam could make out Dean's shrugging shoulders in darkened room. "Just keep doing what we're doing. It'll happen." Sam nodded to himself as he crawled into bed. Dean was probably right, afterall, he had already been through it himself.

-------------

"Damn it!" Bobby slammed the newspaper down on his kitchen table, one of the few surfaces in his house clear of research books. "Son of a bitch!" He finished reading about Ron Daltrieve and Lucille Beringer escaping from their respective holding cells last night, before they could be arraigned on kidnapping charges.

There was a noise from the other room. Bobby held his breath. It did not happen again, but that did not ease the tightness in his chest. He reached into his vest pocket, removing a brand new EMF. He flipped it on and scanned the kitchen. Clear. He moved quietly out of the kitchen, sweeping the area. Hallway – Clear. Den – Clear. Living Room – Clear. Bobby allowed himself to take in and let out a deep breath.

A book tipped off a stack and clattered to the floor behind him. Bobby swung around, waving his EMF meter over the fallen book. Still nothing. Bobby shook his head. "Maybe I need to clean some of this stuff up," he muttered, returning the book to its stack. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he headed upstairs to his bedroom.

The book teetered off the stack, crashing to the floor again. When Bobby did not return, a second book followed the first. A deep chuckle echoed through the room. "I warned you Bobby," words filled the empty room. "Better look after my boys."

Bobby raced back downstairs, EMF in hand. The lights were flashing and the meter arm was swinging erratically. "I'll do better next time!" he shouted into the room. "Honest, John!" The lights stopped and the meter arm swung back to zero. He wiped his brow with his sleeve. "Shit. That was close."

Another book toppled off a stack. Bobby chose to ignore it and go to bed, shutting off his EMF meter.

------------

"Daddy?" Rae squeezed too much syrup on her pancakes while Dean watched, not reaching out to stop her.

"Yeah?" he sipped his coffee.

"Is Uncle Sam going to be okay?" She did not look at him.

"Of course. What makes you ask that?" Dean set his cup down to lean forward across the restaurant table.

"He sure sleeps a lot," she said, holding her knife and fork awkwardly.

"Want some help?" Dean asked.

Rae shook her head. "Just answers."

"Uncle Sam is still recovering so he needs a lot of sleep." Dean lifted his cup again.

"How about you?" Rae looked at him now. "You still recovering?"

Dean frowned. "What do you mean? I'm fine."

Rae stood on the bench seat and put her hands on her hips. "No you're not! You make funny faces every time you pick something up and you make me walk everywhere. You don't carry me anymore. So you must still be recovering too, right?"

"Sit down," Dean pointed down.

She dropped to her seat. Rae speared a large chunk of pancake dripping with syrup and held it up. "Well?" she asked.

"Eat your breakfast," Dean snapped.

Rae dropped her fork. "Not until you answer me." She glared at him.

"Promise not to tell Uncle Sam?" he whispered. She nodded. "I might still be a little sore, that's all. I'm fine."

"So you are recovering," Rae replied with a nod, reaching for her fork.

"I didn't say that," Dean snarled over his coffee.

She shrugged. "Close enough." Rae stuffed the pancake into her mouth. "Should eat somfin," she said through a mouthful of food.

Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Rae swallowed her food. "I don't know," she told him, "but it must have been something good."

He watched her stuff her mouth again. _Maybe so_. Dean flagged down the waitress and ordered two orders of eggs and sausage to go.

**The End. Really. Honest.**


End file.
